


Through Sickness and Health

by marsakat, orphan_account



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Injury, Blow Jobs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gentle Sex, M/M, Robbery, Secret Relationship, Vessel Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-03
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-08-17 03:59:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16508972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marsakat/pseuds/marsakat, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It was in private moments and locked dressing rooms where they were able to embrace and press their lips to one another.But relationships should also be measured in times of struggles.





	Through Sickness and Health

It’s cliche when people say that life is full of unexpected turns, but there is truth within the sentiment. For Tyler and Josh, the dream to play music in front of many different people night after night, to hear the words sung back to them—that was always the plan. They wanted to be big, to play large arenas, they worked hard to build a show and a following to get to that point, but it was a shock to hit every milestone.

They weren’t playing the big venues yet, but they were selling out reasonably sized ones. If anything, it was a thrill to look back at the days when no one was there for them in towns they’d never been before. This, now, was what they wanted but didn’t expect to happen.

Also, neither expected to fall in love with their bandmate. Each knew from the first meeting that there was  _ something _ there; either electricity or chemistry that pulled them like magnets toward each other. It was special, though at first, they wrote it off as just a great friendship, and later as a perfect partnership of music. Their beliefs were aligned, similar dreams shared, and it all just clicked. A coincidental turn of events leading them together and to a very late night sharing their deepest hopes—in no time at all, traveling in a van, the belief in what they had enough to keep them going.

They denied, denied, denied that there was anything more than ‘just best friends’ or platonic soulmates, but that wouldn’t last for long. In a twist reminiscent of a movie, they both confessed their true feelings, and here they once were again. What they’d hoped for, they found in each other and it was beautiful and amazing and so very new. They were in love, and it happened so quickly to be able to finally say that to each other.  

Allowed to kiss and touch, though they kept that a secret from all but their absolute closest circle of trusted companions. It was in private moments and locked dressing rooms where they were able to embrace and press their lips to one another. They could barely keep their hands off each other with post-show adrenaline; the bumpy path they had ridden upon seemed so smooth. There was little else that could disrupt their forward momentum.

“Jeez, guys can you keep your hands off each other for five minutes?” Michael exclaimed, covering his eyes as he walked into the green room. The pair had clearly forgotten to lock the door, overwhelmed with the thrill of playing The Pageant (for the first time!) in St. Louis to an excited crowd. This was far from the first time Michael had walked in on them.

“Do we have to?” Tyler spoke, still with his arms wrapped around Josh’s shoulders. They were standing up, still in their sweaty stage clothes.

“Guess not. Just that bus call is at midnight, and lock the damn door if you’re gonna fool around here,” Michael backed out of the room, “Be safe, kids!”

Tyler locked the door while Josh sat down on the couch, spreading his legs slightly, invitingly. Tyler looked at him through dark, teasing eyes. 

“Wow, a whole hour to do whatever we want,” he said on the slow, slinking approach. 

“Whatever we want  _ plus _ showering and packing up,” Josh let himself be silenced by Tyler's lips upon his, fingers tugging at blue strands, “I like how your shirt matches my hair.”

“Glad you noticed,” Tyler grinned, popping the buttons open to remove it. Josh tossed his own t-shirt off, but stopped with his hand on his waistband, “Nu-uh that's my job,” Tyler said and knelt between his knees. 

He placed kisses to Josh’s stomach, palming his growing boner until Josh’s hips were twitching with need.  “Sh-shit,” Josh cursed shakily and covered his eyes with his arm as Tyler sucked him through his pants. The sensation was dulled but the image alone was hot enough to have Josh toeing the edge. 

“Language, babe,” Tyler winked and tugged his pants off. Josh lifted to help, his dick making a soft slapping noise against his stomach—he was usually close to being fully hard on stage, so it wasn't much of a challenge for Tyler to work him up. 

Josh made a strangled noise halfway to a moan and a laugh as Tyler mouthed up the side of his dick, “Dude what the hell was that?”

“Read a magazine tip to ‘suck your boyfriend’s dick like corn on the cob’ and decided, hey...why not?” Tyler had a weird skill of carrying on casual conversations while throwing Josh the most filthy and intense gaze he could muster. He didn't leave Josh any time to respond, engulfing the head of his dick with no warning.

Josh was raised from an early age to count his blessings, and he listed ‘having Tyler in his life’ as definitely in the top 5. If he was feeling especially sacrilegious, Tyler's blowjob skills would be number one. It wasn't so much what he did with his mouth, though he was very talented, his tongue moving and hitting all the right spots, but the whole effort he put in. The noises; slurping and humming, his fingers digging into Josh’s hips and holding him down, claiming him, and that gaze of such intensity. Josh couldn't close his eyes, locked within this whirlwind of wet, warm suction, lost in the ocean of Tyler’s face.

“Tyler, ah—that feels so good.  I—shit, Ty...:” Josh could barely gather the words to communicate how high he felt with Tyler’s mouth on him and hands locking him down.  He was vulnerable to wherever Tyler took him, molded his body, adjusted his legs. Tyler was a fire that burnt and grew and Josh found himself falling into lava.  His body burnt, and he yelled as Tyler guided him to safety. He convulsed, and Tyler held him through it, swallowing with practice and skill.

Tyler climbed onto the couch next to him, “Hey corn dick.  Wanna jack me off in the shower?”

“Bro, you’re good with words, but pillow talk isn’t your thing,” Josh kissed Tyler, tasting himself on the other’s lips.

“Dude, I’m so hard right now I have no blood left in my brain,” Tyler moved off, grabbing Josh’s hand to pull him eagerly to the shower, “Let’s  _ go _ .”

Josh snickered. Maybe they were just in their honeymoon stage, but it’d been like this for the whole time they knew each other. Hearts and stars in their eyes now were just the bonus of kissing and sex in addition to being best friends. He wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

Freshly showered and smelling like strawberries, the pair left feeling refreshed as they walked out the back of the venue and headed towards the buses. Michael walked in front of them protectively, a grin on his face as he pretended not to notice the two holding hands. 

The buses were parked in a lot across the street from the venue, as there wasn’t enough room to park them any closer. It was dark too, the street lit by only a few lights, and most of them were burnt out. As large as St. Louis was, apparently they couldn’t afford to replace their street lamps or bother to anyways.

“You guys did  _ such _ a good job at being on time today,” Michael said sarcastically, “you know, like you always do.”

“Shut up dude,” Josh said back, tightening his grip on Tyler’s hand and swinging it slightly between them, “We were only like fifteen minutes late.”

“Sides, we play Houston in two days, we have a whole day and a half to get there. Chill.” Tyler rolled his eyes and pulled Josh faster along the street. Josh stumbled and cursed under his breath.

“Dude, watch it. I almost ate concrete.”

“Sorry, it’s dark.” Even so, Josh was sure anyone could see Tyler’s smirk at that moment.

“Well, I mean, if you didn’t spend so much time jerking each other off every night, maybe we could leave on time just once—”

“Michael, I understand how jealous you are that I am dating Josh and you are not, but a boy’s gotta get his needs satisfied every once in a while.”

Michael gagged teasingly. “Oh yeah. How’d you know.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Just once you guys. Just once.”

“Never going to happen,” Tyler hummed as they made their way towards the bus doors.  _ God, _ he loved touring. Being able to spend all this time with Josh was such a dream, and traveling, don’t even don’t him started—

Several things happened at once that changed the course of their entire lives. The first was a shout of surprise from Michael, but it was too dark to see exactly what had caused the commotion. A split second later, a heavy force propelled Tyler directly into the side of the bus, face first. Josh’s hand was ripped from his and all sense of order was knocked out of him as his head and body connected with the metal.  

Stunned, he barely fought against the man who forced a hand over his mouth and growled, “If you move or make a sound, I’ll kill you and your friends.” The cold kiss of the gun upon his temple told him exactly how it would be done.

Tyler squeaked in fear; he could barely make out Josh being held right next to him. The same threat must have been made; he knew Josh would’ve been braver and stronger than he could ever be.

The man pulled him sideways until he was standing in front of the door, “Put in the code now.”  Tyler compiled, his shaking, numb hands fumbled with the keys and the barrel of the gun was pressed harder to his head. “Don’t fuck around with us.”  

Finally, he got it right and chanced the smallest of glances back to where he’d last seen Michael; their protector, his friend since they were infants. If something had happened to him, Tyler could never live with himself.

It felt like a rock landed in his heart and froze his body solid as he saw a crumpled form on the ground that couldn’t be anyone else but him.  _ Please don’t be dead, please Michael, don’t be dead. _

He figured out quickly that there were four attackers, wearing ski masks in different colors. Tyler could have laughed from the bitter irony of the situation. He wondered vaguely if they knew about the band’s signature look and did it to mock them, or else they were the fools attempting to look tougher than they were. The two not holding guns to their heads went onto the bus first, screaming at whoever was inside to “get on the fucking ground! Put your hands up.”

Tyler scrambled to think who could be on there at this time; anyone could be there, minding their own business and now being cast directly into danger. They had been late, he could only pray that everyone else left on the other bus to move the equipment onwards to the next, safe location.

Tyler tripped going up the stairs, but the masked man behind him pushed forward, past the unconscious body of the bus driver. He had  _ kids; _ God, this was  _ all Tyler’s fault _ .  It was a simultaneous relief and terrible blow to find only one person crouched on the ground—Mark’s hands shook and he stared at the floor with wide eyes, with sweat already breaking out on his forehead.

Tyler was shoved to his knees next to Mark and Josh landed on his right. All he wanted was to hold his boyfriend’s hand, to squeeze so the other never let go. But then Red Mask pointed at him and shouted, “Where the fuck is everyone else?”

“I-I don’t know,” Tyler stuttered, “They’re probably packing up gear or getting food. I don’t know!”

“Shit,” White Mask said to Red Mask, “They could come back at any time. We’ve got to do this quick.”

“Everyone—give us your phones and wallets. And you,” Red Mask yelled at Tyler, “Stand up! Get me all the laptops, expensive shit. C’mon! Get the fuck up or I’ll shoot all of you!”

Only a few seconds passed, but to the three of them, their heads down, breaths heavy, knees digging painfully into the carpet, it felt like hours as they each tossed their belongings into the middle of the semicircle. Mark caught Tyler’s eye as Red Mask yanked Tyler up by the collar of his shirt and pushed him towards the hallway.

Tyler felt sick. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his breathing was sporadic and all he could think of was doing something wrong, something so wrong someone would get hurt, or worse: die. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Stuff like this, it didn’t  _ happen, _ not to him, not to them, not to his crew, or his  _ band— _

“If you don’t start getting me shit, I will put a fucking bullet through your brain. GO!” Tyler was shoved again, so hard that he tripped and landed on his butt. Josh and Mark watched through the corner of their eyes as Tyler scrambled on his hands and knees down the hallway towards the back of the bus.

He wasn’t sure what to grab. Red Mask was watching him, his gun lazily leaning to the side of his crossed arms. Tyler knew he was paying attention, and he knew if he didn’t bring absolutely everything, there would be consequences to face.

He grabbed Mark’s camera. Josh’s laptop. Mark’s laptop. An iPad, pretty much anything expensive he could find. It was deposited onto the floor, where the rest of the men would stuff it into bags and Red Mask would scream at Tyler to go back. For once, Tyler was glad most of their equipment was on the other bus.

“Is that everything?” demanded Red Mask. Tyler nodded.

“I think so.”

“‘I think so’ is not fucking good enough. If I go back there and find something—” he paused briefly before slamming the gun to the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler whimpered as the man forced him back towards the bunks. “Oh look, another fucking computer.”

Tyler’s heart dropped. Everything new he had been working on over the course of the tour, over the course of the  _ year, _ was on that computer. If he gave it away, he’d lose everything.

“Must have slipped my eye,” Tyler mumbled, his face flustered, as he stumbled forward to grab it, fishing around the bunk for his flash drive. He jammed it in, well aware Red Mask was breathing over him.

“Grab it and go, before I get even more pissed. I’m doing a sweep, see if anything else slipped your fucking eye.” Tyler squeezed his eyes shut as the guy moved further deeper into the bus and began checking cupboards and under blankets. Tyler’s shaking fingers typed in his password and tried to drag all the folders to his flash drive.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Shouted one of the men from up front. “We don’t have all this fucking time dude!”

Red Mask grabbed Tyler’s shoulder, his laptop slipping from his hands. It crashed into the ground and Tyler just about screamed.

The cold barrel of a gun was pressed to his head once more. “Grab the computer.” Tyler complied. He glanced at the percentage of files that were transferred.  _ 67%. _

He had it cracked open just a little bit, just enough for Red Mask not to get suspicious as he was forced to walk back towards the front of the bus. Tyler was forced back down onto his knees, where he continued to clutch his laptop like it was his lifeline.  _ 71%, 73%, 78%... _

“Give it,” demanded White Mask.

“Just a second,” Tyler said without thinking, still watching the percentages tick upwards. It was at 85% now. Almost there...

Josh’s eyes widened. Mark shook his head, almost if to say,  _ you idiot, what are you doing? _

White Mask let out a loud scoff and looked between his partners. “Just a second? You hear that boys? He said ‘Just a second.’ Oh, forgive me. Sorry to interrupt.”

“You can have the laptop, please, I just need to—” A loud  _ thwack!  _ echoed throughout the bus as Tyler crumpled to the carpet. His vision stirred, his ears rang, as he weakly used a hand to push himself up. Blood pounded in his ears as he touched his left temple. His fingers came back sticky and red.

“Don’t FUCKING TOUCH HIM!” Josh screamed, launching himself at Red Mask, who let out a loud guffaw. White Mask pulled Josh back by the back of his shirt and elbowed him in the face. Tyler’s hand shot back out for his computer.  _ 97%, it’s almost there, come on... _

“Tyler, give him the laptop.” Mark looked terrified, despite his calm demeanor and voice. Tyler nodded.

“It’s almost done, just,  _ please, _ one more second—”

“No. We’ve given you plenty of fucking seconds.” What happened next was something that Tyler had only seen in his nightmares. 

Red Mask moved so casually and naturally, Tyler almost didn't comprehend the danger in how he lifted his gun at the kneeling figures. He didn't even hesitate to fire, the explosion of noise blasting their eardrums with detached recognition. Everything was frozen and no one reacted, and Tyler had the briefest moment of hope that maybe it was just a warning shot meant to terrify, not to hurt. 

But then there was a spray of blood, and Josh was falling backward, clutching at the bullet hole in his chest. Tyler screamed and the alert on the laptop read  _ 100% complete _ . 

“Nobody fucking moves except to give me that laptop,” White Mask said pointing his gun at Mark, who had started to crawl towards Josh and froze with the threat they knew would be carried out. 

Josh was breathing like he was drowning, hiccupping gasps and blood bubbling around his mouth; Tyler knew they had to act quickly. “Here! Take it! Please! Please, just let us go.”

Mark dove at Josh as soon as the laptop was in the robber’s hands, ripping off his own shirt and using it to press down hard on the wound. He was quickly covered in blood. Tyler kept pleading, “We don't have anything else! Please! Just let us go! We won't call the cops, we won't say anything, just let us save him!”

Green Mask spoke for the first time, “I just checked, there's nothing else. Let's go before someone walks in on us.”

Tyler could barely care about the gun pointed at himself, or that all their valuables were being dragged away as the robbers dashed out of the bus. All that mattered in the world was crawling to Josh, who was writhing and bleeding, his blood soaking the floor and Mark’s shirt. 

“Josh! Keep your eyes open! Stay with us!” Mark yelled at the drummer, who was getting paler and drowsier by the moment. “Tyler— you've gotta run! Find someone and call for help!”

“Josh, stay awake, stay awake for me, I’ll be right back, I promise... I love you, okay?” Tyler kissed him on the forehead and, finally having a goal, stood, not wanting to think this could be the last he saw Josh alive. No. He forbid it.

He ran like he never ran before, screaming, “Help! Someone help!”

Tyler ran into a crowd of people who clearly had been at the show, along with some security guards. Most stood dumbfounded at his bloodied appearance. “Give me a phone! We need an ambulance!” 

So many people sprung into action, but it didn't feel fast enough for how close to death Josh was hovering. Tyler kept screaming that Josh had been shot and in moments, there were cops and an ambulance at the bus. He thanked God for the fact that there were always medics at shows, and that they hadn't left immediately after. 

He noticed this all through a haze of confusion and fear. People he didn't know were all around him, asking questions, and Tyler couldn't answer.

“I need to see Josh!” He pleaded and tried to fight past them, but security was persistent. When Tyler stood on his tiptoes, he could see on the side of the bus, there was a group of EMTs putting a limp body on a stretcher. It took Tyler far too long to remember Michael, attacked and unconscious—his memory only jarred when he saw Dan hovering, staring in horror at what he saw. 

Even more medics were entering the bus, but so far, none of them had left. He thought about Mark, still in there, soaked in Josh’s blood, pushing down on his wound.

His bullet wound.

“Hey, we can’t let you past—”

“He’s my best friend!” Tyler’s voice teetered on hysteria. Behind him, sirens screamed. That must have been backup.

“There’s too much going on—”

“Oh, fuck off!” With one last push, Tyler managed to slide past the guard, the safety of the crowd swallowing him whole, taking him to the bus doors, where he forced his burning muscles to work one last time and pull him onto the bus.

It was worse than any horror film Tyler had ever seen. Josh’s blood was everywhere, and there was controlled chaos as the EMTs worked on him. Tyler understood later how quickly they had to move to get Josh on his way to a hospital, but in the moment, it felt like Josh was being torn out of his hands. His heart was shattering, trying to move closer but being pulled back by stronger hands. It was better if he stayed out of the way, but Tyler couldn't help it. He needed to see Josh’s face and confirm that the life hadn't slipped out of it. 

Tyler only had glimpses of Josh; each quick view was enough to restart his empty heart, beating faster than it ever had. It was only when they began to move Josh out of the bus and to the ambulance when Tyler finally could see him. 

Josh's eyes were somehow still open and they roved, searching for something, and found it in Tyler’s face. They were over large and slightly glassy above the oxygen mask taking up most of his face. Tyler could see terror, and he sobbed as Josh held his gaze for as long as he could before the view was obstructed. As if Tyler being scared wasn't enough, he had the realization that Josh too was fully aware of how closely death was approaching. 

He moved forward, wanting to hold and touch him, to shoo away the danger, but the arms were still holding him back. Tyler fought against them, but Mark’s voice in his ear stopped his thrashing. Tyler didn't know what he said, but it was the only thing safe and familiar in this hellhole. 

He turned to bury his face into Mark’s neck and cried. Guilt was a river pouring out of him and flooding the floor, though it did nothing to wash away the blood. How could he be so foolish to not do exactly what the men with guns told him to do? Tyler sobbed with the realization he had killed Josh just as much as the man that pulled the trigger. 

If Josh died in there, in an unfamiliar hospital miles away from home, Tyler would never be able to forgive himself.

They couldn’t leave yet. Even after the EMT’s had cleared the scene, Mark and Tyler remained on the bus, holding one another, both stained with Josh’s blood, as police officers came to inspect and ask questions. Tyler couldn’t control his shaking hands or the streams of tears running down his pink cheeks. Mark still didn’t have a shirt on, because just like them, it was stained with crimson.

The officers wanted descriptions.  _ How tall were they? Can you describe what they looked like? Did you see the vehicle they left in? What did they take? _ And like a robot, Tyler spoke in the most monotone voice he could muster to try and help the officers with their report. Mark’s hand clutched Tyler’s thigh like it was his only lifeline.

Tyler understood that time was slipping by and that the cops needed the information to get the masked robbers while they were on the move. If given enough time to escape, it would be so difficult to find them before they disappeared. But rationality was weak against the panic coursing through Tyler’s veins. He needed to be by Josh’s side and he couldn’t be of any help to the police until he saw Josh with his own eyes.

At some point, it was remembered that Tyler had been hit on the head and needed to be brought to the hospital to be examined. Tyler went quietly since that was the fastest way to get to Josh with Mark beside him because both had to be medically cleared. Their ambulance didn’t make haste; it seemed to take forever.

Getting examined by the doctor was a distant memory that felt like he’d dreamt it all. Josh was in surgery; even if Tyler was released, he couldn’t see him anyway. The nurses kept telling him but he didn’t stop asking.

Somehow he passed their tests, didn’t even have a mild concussion; “You must have a strong skull there, son,” the old doctor told him. Tyler didn’t even crack a smile, just asked to be brought to the waiting room. Their crew was there, waiting petrified and shell-shocked and made noises of relief to see Tyler. Mark was already released and in clothes clean of Josh’s blood. Tyler too was handed sweats to change into and did so in front of everyone, uncaring of propriety. With a pang, he realized the sweats really belonged to Josh.

Tyler was updated as someone wiped the blood off his face and hands. Michael was going to be okay— he’d been admitted to the hospital just to keep an eye on him. The bus driver was going to be alright as well. It was only Josh they were waiting to find out what would happen.

The waiting was interminable, even when the doctors came out to let them know what was happening to Josh. It was touch-and-go, Josh wasn’t out of danger yet, but, “he’s a fighter. He’s not giving up.”

The bullet had caused his right lung to collapse. He had lost a lot of blood, and the hospital staff were trying their hardest to keep him breathing and his blood pressure from tanking. They were experts in what they did, used to gunshot victims, but had never heard a story like this one.

It took hours to stabilize him, and send him up to the intensive care unit where only two people could go see him. Josh’s family would’ve been the ones to see him first, but they were still far away. So, Tyler and Mark were the ones to be led to his room.

The hospital had huge windows in the hallway, and Tyler realized how close to morning they had survived. The sky was milky grey and lightening with each step forward. The hospital was so huge, Tyler wasn’t sure how he’d ever find his way out. The sensation of being trapped increased and Tyler could feel the beginnings of a panic attack finally catching up with him.

He had been distracted by the speed at which everything had happened and the uncertainty that Josh would survive. This march past room after room of the sick and dying pressed upon Tyler’s chest, and he wanted to  _ run and hide _ . But Josh needed him, and he had to see that Josh had made it through the night.

There were police sitting outside Josh’s room for his protection, but they let the two of them pass. Mark grasped Tyler’s shoulder as they laid eyes on Josh.

Tyler’s first thought was that Josh wasn’t breathing on his own, and that wasn’t a good sign. The ventilator clicked and gasped oxygen into Josh’s struggling lungs. Tubes snaked across the bed and Josh’s body. Tyler was used to television and the movies where the patients were neatly covered up in blankets. Josh’s bandages were exposed, thick tubes draining blood were inserted directly into his chest.

It wasn’t pretty, and Josh didn’t even look real. His blue hair was the only color and Tyler couldn’t believe this was happening. In less than a day they had gone from doing well; selling out shows, gathering a following, starting to get radio play; to Josh close to death and their future uncertain.

Josh, who Tyler was so in love with and couldn’t imagine doing any of this without him. Josh, who was the nicest person he had ever met. It wasn’t fair and Tyler felt the guilt burning him from the inside out.

Because all of this was Tyler’s fault.

If he hadn’t been selfish about his music or had been smart enough to back up somewhere else. The music was beyond important to Tyler, that was obvious to anyone, but it would never, ever be more important than the person lying unconscious in that bed.

He did this to Josh just as much as the man that pulled the trigger.

Tyler couldn’t do it. He couldn’t stay and watch Josh suffer. He hovered next to the bed and found that he couldn’t grab Josh’s hand as Mark had done on the other side. He was so afraid that if he did, he would find Josh cold. No pulse thrumming under the surface of his wrest— already dead. As much as Tyler loved Josh, he couldn’t stay.

_ He ran _ .

Mark yelled his name, but Tyler didn’t turn back. He was never coming back as far as Josh was comatose. He couldn’t have the image in his mind of Josh like this. Besides, he reasoned, Josh wouldn’t be awake to know. He’d come back some other time— today was a bad day and Tyler couldn’t take any more. He had to clear his head.

His throat burned with the need to break down into heavy sobs. This was all his fault.  _ All  _ his fault. 

Mark wouldn't understand. Nobody would understand except for him, understand that seeing Josh, seeing him in that position, in a position he would never thought he'd have to see his boyfriend in, was too much to handle. Josh's pale, sickly skin flashed in his mind and Tyler about broke down right there in the hallway. He stretched himself thinner, forcing himself to continue down past white hallways and chatty nurses and the sick and dying, out the front doors of the hospital and around the corner. 

Tyler settled down on a bench and placed his head in his hands. He felt like throwing up. It should have been him in that hospital bed, clinging on to dear life, not Josh. Josh didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this.

He hated himself for not being strong. Tyler gave himself the excuse of supreme exhaustion. Josh was sleeping after all, he would try again after some rest. He let other people find him, bring him to a hotel room, and put him to sleep. Their whispers around him seemed to think the same thing. 

“ _ He’ll be better when he wakes up. Tyler will go to the hospital later _ .”

Just who were they waiting to wake up, Tyler wasn't sure. The statement was repeated behind his back and through ajar doors as if they wanted him to overhear. He took that as his own mantra as the day turned into a week, and then more. 

He couldn't drag himself from the bed when people would cheerily wake him to go to the hospital in the mornings. Not even when Michael appeared one day to tug on his leg. He'd been discharged and was feeling much better, though Tyler could only assume because he hadn't gone to visit him and didn't want to bother to ask. 

“Later…” 

“I didn't sleep well…” 

“I wanna shower first…”

“Later…” 

Tyler was filled with endless excuses to them and to himself. He'd get dressed long after the rest of their friends; the first few times he really did intend to meet them by Josh’s bed. But when he stepped from the hotel lobby to the street, his hand didn't wave down a taxi. 

He turned right and wandered, uncaring how he’d been told to be careful, lest he end up in a dangerous area—if anything, he had firsthand proof how dangerous cities could be. Tyler was lucky this time and ended up wandering into a park. 

It was nice. Peaceful. Birds chirped in big, blossoming trees and dogs ran beside their owners. He walked along the trail, his hands deep in his pockets, his head down, hoping to clear his mind of everything that had happened over the past days.

It was wild to him that something could be so tranquil while the rest of his life was in tatters around him.

For Tyler, it wasn’t the question of why he wouldn’t visit Josh, but when; when he would gather enough courage to see his best friend in that frail, porcelain doll state. Josh, his chest ripped apart and covered in blood, was all Tyler could see every time he closed his eyes. Josh’s screams rang in his ears and the irregular rise and fall of his chest branded the backs of his eyelids. Tyler knew it was his fault. That was why he couldn’t bring himself to see Josh in the hospital. He knew it should have been him in that hospital bed, not Josh.

Josh had never done wrong in his life, or, at least, nothing that would warrant him to end up with a collapsed lung and a bullet in his chest. At least Tyler had made mistakes, had wished harm upon himself and others, had done enough wrong to end up on the receiving side of a revolver.

He knows he needs to stop making excuses. He knows. He just... he can’t. 

St. Louis’ skyscrapers towered in the distance and he could barely make out the shadow of the arch. This city mocked him. Tyler should have been excited to be in an unfamiliar place playing shows with his best friend and boyfriend. And he had been, up until all hell broke loose.

Tyler settled down on a nearby park bench and smiled softly as the puppy of a passing jogger nipped at his legs. He patted its head, letting his trembling fingers scratch behind fluffy ears and wiggling bottom.

“I think she likes you,” The woman laughed, pulling on the leash. Tyler laughed with her, his chest aching. That made one person who liked him. Or rather, mammal. Tyler wasn’t on the best of terms with the rest of the mammals in his life.

For as tranquil as the park was, Tyler received hell when he got back to the hotel.

“Do you know how scared we were?” Mark exclaimed. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Dude, so not cool to just disappear when we’re already freaked out about Josh.” Michael chimed in.

Tyler mumbled his apologies, adding this incident to the guilt he’d been collecting. 

“I just—I couldn’t go there today. I would’ve had a massive panic attack if I went to the hospital. He’s asleep so it’s not like he’ll notice that I didn’t come today.” Tyler pleaded, and Mark and Michael looked at each other but said nothing. 

And they continued to say nothing as the days crept by and Tyler’s excuses were never-ending. Everyone wrote off the time Josh was unconscious—sure, they all thought it was awful that Tyler wouldn’t join the vigil, but he was understandably traumatized. 

But then the reports turned from “Hey the doctors think he may be waking up soon. He’s doing so much better—do you think you’ll come to the hospital with us in the morning?” to “His eyes opened! Just for a second!” and frantic phone calls updating Tyler with Josh’s first moments of being conscious. Tyler could hear people talking to him in the background and his throat closed up—he ended the call before anyone had the idea to put him on speakerphone. 

Tyler sat on the bathroom floor for hours, numb and confused why he felt no relief that Josh was awake. 

“Tyler?” A soft voice followed the knock on the bathroom door. Tyler’s stomach plummeted as he recognized who it was. “Can I come in?”

“No, Dunk. I’m sorry, but I’m sick—I think I have the stomach flu and I don’t want to give it to anyone.” Tyler lied. He had barely eaten anything in days. 

“Oh, okay. Well, my brother woke up asking for you and I just wanted to—I guess let you know that he’s looking for you. I think he’s scared something bad happened to you and doesn’t believe us when we say you weren’t hurt. But I guess it’s for the best if you’re sick that you don’t see him. He’s pretty weak right now. My parents are staying with him overnight.”

“Thanks for tell—”

“I’ve never seen him like that before.” Jordan continued, cutting across Tyler’s reply. “Getting the news that he’d been shot and then waiting, and waiting for him to wake up. I’ve been so scared—and—and I can’t believe I almost lost him.”

“Me too.”

“I’m sorry, I know you probably don’t want to relive all this. You were actually there when… when…”

Tyler expected blame, had edged away from the locked door as if the poisonous accusations would seep through the gaps and choke him with the truth. He knew he deserved it, and if the roles were flipped there would be a lot of anger from him—Tyler could understand that pain he’d feel if this were to happen to either of his siblings. But Jordan didn’t say anything further, only ragged breaths from the other side of the wood. 

Tyler pressed his palms to his eyes so hard that stars exploded; he couldn’t summon tears any longer, but he could at least pull himself together for a scared kid.  

“Josh is so brave and strong. What happened is over and he’s going to pull through,” Tyler reassured. “It’s getting really late now, so how about you head to bed? If I’m feeling better, I’ll come with you to visit him in the morning.”

“Thanks, Ty. He really wants to see you.” Jordan wished him good night and Tyler waited till the hotel door clicked shut before he left the bathroom.  

Sending Jordan was a tough ploy on their part to get Tyler to the hospital. He liked Jordan a lot; Josh had brought him out on tour a lot and they all knew how much Tyler sanctified the bond between brothers. But the process of getting himself through those hospital doors and to Josh’s room without… without breaking apart, without dying from suffocation—it felt impossible. 

His brain knew that Josh was out of danger, and had stabilized. Tyler was almost completely convinced by Jordan to go visit—but Tyler was haunted and sickened by the images of Josh suffering and bleeding. He was too terrified to leave the hotel and waved Jordan off in the morning.

 

* * *

More time passed. 

“Tyler, I can’t keep making excuses for you. He doesn’t believe me when i say you visited when he was asleep.” 

He couldn’t do it. Tyler wasn’t sure if he’d ever leave this room again. 

“You’re terrifying me. What’s keeping you from going? He’s better! He wants you there—he’s stopped asking but I can tell he thinks you’re going to walk through the door at any minute.”

No one would get it. And the more time that passed, Tyler had no logical reasons to give. All he had were nightmares. Something— some weird twist of fate was tied to Tyler visiting Josh in the hospital and the actuality that maybe Josh was already dead. Seeing would be proof. 

“You don’t get it, Mark, I just, I  _ can’t. _ I can’t. I can’t visit him, I can’t look at him, I can’t even think about him.” Tyler finally broke, as Mark stormed into his hotel room and told him that they were going together. Physical force would be used if Tyler resisted. 

“Tyler, this isn’t about you!  This is about Josh—he’s sick, he nearly died and you’re hung up on some crap when he needs you. For God’s sake, don’t you love him?” Mark’s words cut through the skin of Tyler’s chest and laid his heart bare. 

“Don’t pull that shit Mark, of course, I love him! You won’t understand,” Tyler screamed, the pain breaking him.

“You’re not acting like it. Fuck, it’s lucky he hasn’t married you cuz ‘in sickness and in health’ means nothing to you.  You don’t deserve him. He’s too good for you, and yet that dumb sucker loves you.”

“Don’t— Don’t.” Tyler moved close, almost ready to hit Mark. There was so much that Mark knew about Tyler; secrets and dark thoughts that only had to be implied. It was a low, low blow and Tyler knew he deserved it. 

“Josh took a goddamn bullet for you. He loves you so much and you’re… you’re an asshole for not seeing that. I hope you love him like you say you do, because it fucking doesn’t look like it.”

“I… can’t…” Tyler leaned forward, his head pressed against Mark’s chest as sobs racked his body. 

Mark didn’t move to comfort him. He stayed stock still and told Tyler, “I’m leaving with you right now. We are going to the hospital and you are apologizing. Got it?”

Shockingly, Tyler followed. 

He sobbed the whole cab ride over, knowing no other way to respond. Mark sat stonily silent, implication enough as if Tyler was only crying crocodile tears. He’d been through enough pain—Mark too had been there when Josh was shot. He had stayed to staunch the blood and had nightmares as well. Words and tears were cheap when he’d spent days and nights at Josh’s beside while considering the betrayal Tyler was committing. 

Mark kept a hand on Tyler’s shoulder as they marched the path he had worn well in his mind. He hadn’t thought about forewarning any of the other visitors—it had taken all his power to get Tyler there in the first place. 

“Hey everyone, Tyler the asshole finally decided to stop being a pussy,” Mark announced, which thankfully the only people in Josh’s room at the time were just friends. Josh’s parents were out to lunch and had been through enough already that they didn’t need to hear that. 

Josh sat up in his hospital bed, his IV trailing behind him and his skin still sickly pale. At least he was awake. He looked pissed, but he was awake.

“I’ll leave you two to talk,” Mark said, beckoning the rest of the group out of the room. When the door to Josh’s room slammed shut, Tyler swallowed nervously and pulled a plastic chair up to Josh’s bedside.

“I, uhm.” No words would come. Tears stuck to the brim of his eyelids, threatening to spill. He had a frog in his throat that croaked every time he tried to speak.

Josh, on the other hand, seemed to have plenty to say. “So, that’s it, huh?” He was keeping himself calm despite the fact that his face had fury written all over it.

Tyler blinked. “What?”

“You’re here to kick me out of the band since I ruined everything.” His cheek twitched. Tyler’s eyes widened.

“No! No, why would I—” Tyler paused for a breath. “Unless that’s what you want. To leave.”

“I don’t know anymore, Tyler.”

“You can’t... you can’t just quit on me, J.”

“I can when you’ve already given up on me.”

Pain filled Tyler’s face, causing his threatening tears to start boiling over. He thought at this point there would be nothing left to cry. “Josh—”

“Don’t start, Tyler. I don’t want to hear it, especially not right now. Look, I’m sure you have plenty of  _ great _ excuses to why you didn’t come visit your dying boyfriend at the hospital, because I get it, getting shot is really not that big of a deal. Nothing but a flesh wound, right?” Josh laughed bitterly. Tyler had never heard him so angry. “Just get out. I need time to be alone right now.”

“No.”

“No? Great. You wouldn’t come when I needed you, but now you won’t leave. So tell me...have you been rerecording all your lost music?  Shame it was stolen, if only you had just handed it over in the first place maybe I wouldn’t have gotten  _ shot.” _

“You’re right. I was stupid. I was really, really stupid. But I couldn’t let them take what we had worked so  _ hard on— _ ”

“No, no, I get it. Work is so much more important than me. Totally makes sense.” 

“Josh, you’re being—it’s not that.  You know what that stuff means to me,” Tyler tried to plead, but Josh wasn’t having it.

“Yeah the ‘stuff’ nearly got me killed, so I get it.  Actually, I’m surprised you’re here. Shouldn’t you be in Houston finishing up the tour? I’m replaceable, after all. This is all about you anyway. It’s not hard to find another drummer. You, you aren’t replaceable. People aren’t going to listen to the band without your fucking voice. But me? Easy.” 

“I can’t live without you. I can’t  _ be _ the band anymore without you. Josh, you’re my everything.” Josh opened his mouth to say something bitter, but Tyler cut across him, “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, and watching you bleed out— being covered in your blood, thinking I might never get to hold you in my arms again, was the lowest moment in my life.  And for the first time in years, since I met you, I wondered how I could possibly live another day because you were gone.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you come to see me? Why did you  _ never fucking come? _ ” Tyler wasn’t the only one crying now. Josh’s tears streamed silently down his face.

“Because I couldn’t stand to think that I had lost you. I’m being haunted by the image of you. I’d close my eyes and you’d be there with covered in blood and I couldn’t— ” Tyler’s tears only multiplied seeing Josh crying with him. “I couldn’t deal with that. And I know it was wrong of me. I know I was wrong, and I’m so sorry, but I keep having this nightmare that I’d get here and there’s a sheet over your head and you’re dead— you’re dead. How could you leave me?”  

Josh scoffed a little, wiped away some of his tears, “Tyler, I’d never leave you. C’mere.” With a silent beckoning of his hand, Tyler finally came close to the bedside, having expected that to be too near would result in Josh swinging at him.  But Josh would never, and he took Tyler’s hands in his and held them to his face. “I’m alive. See?” He slid one to his neck, and Tyler felt the drumming of his pulse, the steady beat that promised him ‘Josh was real’ and more alive than ever.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

 

* * *

Tyler was a hundred percent sure that Josh was trying to kill him. His kind, sweet, funny boyfriend was intentionally trying to make Tyler’s head explode and dick fall off; he was certain of it. Why did Josh have to be so… sexy? And especially when they weren’t allowed to be getting freaky. 

“Oops.” Josh would say and Tyler would turn to see him licking chocolate pudding off of his fingers.  _ Chocolate. Ridiculously slowly, with finger sucking and too much eye contact _ . 

Or else Tyler would be standing around, minding his own business and Josh would brush past, his ass coming into contact with some… problem zones. 

Tyler was trying his hardest to be an absolute saint. Josh was still very weak, which was why Tyler moved in with him—not to be tortured day in and day out with his adorable boyfriend who kept making flirty faces at him. Josh was so much better than when they first got home and Tyler had to help him in and out of bed, wash him, even dress him when the twisting caused too much pain. 

It was so frustrating for Josh, who always loved being active and could never sit still. His lung needed time to heal, and most activities got him out of breath—drumming was out of the question for months, which nearly drove him insane. Nor could he run, or jump, or even walk up a flight of stairs without some kind of falter in his step.

Tyler understood how much this hurt Josh, how much it angered him, even if Josh tried to keep it under wraps. When Josh would spend some nights crying about the pain and about his inability to do nothing by himself, Tyler would wrap his arms snugly around his body and press kisses to Josh’s neck. Josh deserved the entire world and it made Tyler so sad that he couldn’t give it to him.

One day, Tyler received a call from Mark to come over immediately. He helped Josh into the car and sped over as fast as he could, hoping the police wouldn’t get in his way. Whatever Mark had to say was bound to be important. Tyler figured it had something to do with Josh, so if Mark was making him break the law for something stupid, he just might strangle him.

Josh sat down on the sofa as Tyler began to rapidly pace back and forth. Mark came into the living room with his phone clenched tightly in his hand, causing Tyler to stop. He could feel his whole body shaking.

“The captain called me, from the station in St. Louis.” Tyler’s heart skipped a beat as Josh leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “They brought the guys in, got all our stuff back. He said he was sending it to us as soon as possible, they just needed to register it as evidence and write the paperwork.”

“They— they caught them?” His fists moved into tight fists. The guy who shot Josh, the one with the red mask— his dark eyes were branded across the inside of Tyler’s eyelids. He wanted to  _ murder  _ him.

“Every last one of them. They have all the evidence they need to make sure they’re in jail for a long time. I guarantee the guy who shot Josh will be charged with attempted murder.”

Josh looked paler than usual, which prompted Tyler to sit down next to him and reach for his hand. Josh squeezed it and cleared his throat. “That’s good. Yeah. Good to hear.”

“So now all you have to do is focus on healing. How are you feeling, by the way?” Mark smiled politely at him, but it wasn’t hard to deny there was also sympathy in his eyes. Tyler knew Mark was just as shaken up about the events of that night. He had been the one to stop Josh from bleeding out, the one that jumped into action after Tyler had ruined anything. Tyler understood why Josh had been so angry with him. Tyler was angry with himself.

“I’m feeling much better, thanks to Tyler,” he patted Tyler’s back and returned the smile, “he’s been doing all he can to make sure I’m okay.”

“Good,” Mark nodded his head in approval, “I’m glad. Keep up the work, okay, Ty?”

“Of course,” Tyler murmured, his world masked in a filter of red-hot fury.

The drive back to Josh’s apartment building was tense. Tyler could tell Josh wanted to ask what was wrong but kept his mouth shut for the sake of Tyler’s emotions. For that, Tyler was thankful.

However, the second they got home, Josh decided Tyler had enough time and initiated conversation.

“You’re angry.” Josh sat down on the bed and propped himself up with pillows as Tyler began to rifle through the closet for one of Josh’s hoodies. Because he had a slightly bigger frame, Tyler liked the roominess he got. Plus, Josh smelled good.

“Yeah, no duh I’m angry.” He aggressively jammed his arms through the sleeves and pulled it over his head. “Those assholes deserve to be put in prison for life.”

“At least they were caught, right? Small victories. Besides, we don’t know how long they’ll be in jail.”

Tyler pointed at him. “We are never stepping foot in St. Louis again. Sorry to everyone there, but I refuse to put you in danger. I already did it once.”

Josh sighed and beckoned Tyler closer with a wave of his hand. Tyler sulked over, his head hung as he climbed onto the bed and let Josh kiss his forehead. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened to me.”

“It was my fault. If I had just given them what they wanted—”

“In the end, any one of us could have been shot. I rather it was me than you or Mark, or even Michael, the bus driver, one of crew members. The thing is, Ty, I’m okay. I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.” He began to thread his fingers through Tyler’s hair as Tyler laid down in his lap and sighed. “If you won’t go back to St. Louis because you’re scared something will happen to me, then I hate to break it to you, man, but people get shot all over the United States. We wouldn’t be able to tour.”

“I don’t want it to happen again.”

“None of us signed up to be target practice when we became musicians, love. Anything could kill us and every day could be our last. But we can’t let the fear consume us and control our lives. We have to be brave and push forward. Actually, now that I’m thinking about it, a wise old philosopher once said something along the lines of ‘peace will win and fear will lose.’ I think it might have been Socrates? Wait... no. Plato? Aristotle, maybe?”

“Oh, screw off,” Tyler mumbled, his cheeks darkening to a beautiful shade of cherry red. Josh chuckled.

“I’ve already forgiven and moved on. I love my life, and I love you. I want to keep doing this with you forever, even when scary things happen. I don’t let that stop me. I need it to not stop you, either.”

Tyler sat up, his Adam’s Apple bobbing, tears brimming at his eyelids. He kissed Josh’s cheek and smiled. “I’ll try.”

 

* * *

Finally,  _ finally, _ after months and months of progress, Josh came back the apartment with a wolf-like grin on his face and a bounce in his footsteps. Tyler was in the kitchen, working on some lunch for him and Josh after his boyfriend returned from his doctor’s appointment.

“Tyler,” he said, challenging, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, “I have great news.”

Tyler shoveled spaghetti into small bowls as he responded, “what’s that?”

“The doctor says I’m healing up nice and well.”

“That’s really good to hear, babe,” Tyler raised the bowl of pasta in front of him as he turned around. “That means drumming, right?”

“Sure,” Josh smiled, taking a few strides into the kitchen. He reached out to give Tyler’s shoulders some tight squeezes. “Buuuuuut,” he sang, “it also means... other things.”

Tyler was oblivious, sneaking out of Josh’s grasp to grab forks. He was so used to being Josh’s caregiver over these past months that he was not in sync with Josh’s mind. “Oh, yeah. Exercise. I bet you’re dying to go for a run.”

“Christ, dude. Do I gotta spell it out for you?”

“Uhhh, I assume you’re hungry? I made spaghetti.” 

“Sex, Tyler. I am talking about sex.”

His eyes widened and his mouth formed a perfect little “o.” Josh smirked, his arms folded, as Tyler moved everything to the counter and stepped away from the stovetop heat. His perfect boyfriend suddenly seemed more irresistible than he ever had since Tyler had known him.

Josh wrapped his arms around the back of Tyler’s neck and leaned in to press a feathery-light kiss to the corner of his mouth. He allowed his lips to slide over Tyler’s cheekbone and to the shell of Tyler’s ear where he whispered, “let’s take this to the bedroom, huh?”

“You know me so well.” 

He allowed Josh to take his hand—after turning off the stove and leaving lunch to get cold. Josh lead them to the room that had become their place of rest, the bed full of pillows and big, fluffy blankets to make Josh feel comfortable when he slept. Tyler would be lying if he said he wasn’t eager, but he was also afraid— scared that Josh was getting ahead of himself and Tyler would do something to hurt him.

He rested his hand on Josh’s hip, his fingers toying with the fabric as Josh pressed a desperate kiss to his mouth. His hand slipped underneath and thumbed at his skin.

“If it’s too much for you, you’ll tell me, right?”

“Of course,” Josh promised, biting his lip. Tyler helped him get his shirt off and tossed it to the floor below them. His breath hitched at the sight of the fleshy white scar Josh had from where the bullet had hit him. An incision ran between his ribs at his side, where they had inserted the chest tube to drain the blood from his punctured lung.

Carefully, Tyler lowered his hand to Josh’s chest and rested it over the scar. He caught Josh’s gaze, hoping it was okay. Josh nodded his head, so Tyler moved in to softly kiss it. Above him, Josh’s breaths were deep and heavy as he leaned his head back against the headboard.

“Pretty cool, huh?” Josh murmured. “Those are some wicked awesome scars. No one will ever wanna mess with me.”

“I see ‘em as additional places to give my love to,” Tyler spoke into Josh’s ribs, his lips gentle as they move to the scar from the exit wound on his right side, just above the chest tube scar, “more places to kiss and tell you how brave you are.”

Josh began to play with Tyler’s hair, knowing how much Tyler liked that as Tyler continued to kiss his scars and move his lips all across Josh’s chest. He kissed his collarbone, the dip of his sternum, even ran them across Josh’s hardening nipples. Soft words of love turned into rumbling moans that vibrated up Tyler’s lips—Josh clearly becoming more and more turned on. 

“Need this.” Josh gasped. “Please, I need you on top of me.”

Tyler was more than happy to oblige; their hips met and legs tangled together, but he was still cautious with putting any pressure on Josh’s chest. He stayed high up on his arms, leaning down to kiss him. Josh was already hard, matching Tyler, and their hips both began to roll. It had been months since their last orgasms; stress and pain had kept sex far from their minds.

It had taken months for Josh to be able to dress himself, and even now on bad days, needed Tyler to help him tie his shoes. Josh’s careful work putting his clothes on that morning was quickly undone. Being in a band with Josh for years, dating and sleeping together, and caring for him as he recovered—Tyler had seen him naked so many times before. The shift back to the thrill of being exposed and hard  _ together _ was mind-blowing, from just seeing him as someone who was hurt and sick. 

Tyler’s arms were already getting tired, and he sat back on Josh’s thighs. He grasped Josh’s hips in his hands, thumbs moving back and forth over the lines of his groin. His dick bobbed, making Tyler giggle. 

“Someone’s eager,” Tyler commented, and gifted him with his hand. 

It was only the start, just giving Josh a taste of what he wanted. He sighed. Tyler thumbed the head of his dick, feeling a drop of precome already leaking under his thumb. 

“Someone is  _ very  _ eager.” He leaned back down to kiss Josh, the distance between their lips unbearable. 

There was comfort in the familiarity, and whose lips moved which way. Josh’s cock hot in his hand; tonight was about the gentle build up. As much as Tyler trusted the doctor’s judgement, he was still cautious of Josh’s limits. 

“You doing okay?” Tyler asked, and received an eager nod back.

“Yes— yes, please. Lube, please.” Josh’s hands were sliding up and down Tyler’s sides, clearly overwhelmed to be back in this position finally.

“Whatever you want, Jishwa.” Tyler kissed his nose. 

They kept the lube in the bedside table on Josh’s side of the bed. It had been so long that Tyler checked the expiration date; even before Josh’s injury, they’d been on tour and hadn’t used it much, but thankfully the lube was still good. Josh’s eyes were hooded and he watched every move Tyler made as he settled between Josh’s legs. It was clear where Josh wanted this to go, and quickly. Despite the fact Tyler wanted to be inside him too and was planning on giving him everything he needed, he couldn’t help himself.

“Do you think you can wait?” Tyler asked, his fingertips running up the back of Josh’s thighs— his knees were bent, presenting. “I wanna adore every inch of you some more.”

His lips found the scars again, but he moved downwards with a purpose. Josh let out some whimpers and his fists twisted in the pillows as Tyler got closer and closer; finally taking Josh’s dick in his mouth. His noises were magical, increasing in volume as he clearly came close to the edge. 

It wasn’t taking long at all, not surprising after a drought, but Tyler wanted to spread Josh out across the bed and take him apart slowly and carefully. He had envisioned spending hours and days making up for every mistake—to show Josh how much he loved him with all his actions just for him. He made his decision and pulled back, to which Josh let out a groan. 

“I know.” Tyler kissed his thigh. “Want to make this special for you. Can I… do you want to have sex?”

“God, yes. Please.” Josh reached for the bottle of lube that had almost been forgotten on the bed by his knee and clearly twisted his body in a way he shouldn’t. He hissed and winced, and Tyler panicked. 

“Are you okay? We can stop, it’s fine. Do you need some Advil?” 

“I’m good. Let’s get going!” Josh was ready to combust. 

Tyler coated his fingers and ran his knuckles along Josh’s perineum. The external pressure to his prostate always wound Josh up, and sure enough, he groaned and twisted his fist in a pillow, shifting to spread his legs even further. Both inhaled audibly as Tyler’s finger finally slid into him, curling just the right away. Time spent not doing  _ this _ didn’t mean that Tyler forgot how to hit the right spots to make Josh groan and sigh—to draw it all out that Josh breathlessly begged for Tyler to “just get on with it, please… I need you.”

Finally, Tyler took his place between Josh’s legs— knees pulling up higher to accommodate him. This time, they exhaled in unison; it felt like years had passed since they were able to be this close, to  _ make love _ . 

They spent a long time just with Tyler inside of Josh, not moving. Kissing, hands running over each other’s bodies. Josh seemed to understand why Tyler stayed up so high on his arms, and he gently pushed him down so they could be pressed chest-to-chest as well. 

“I won’t break,” Josh insisted. “I’m good, man. I’m good now.”

Tyler gave him small twitches of his hips, not wanting to pull away too far. He couldn’t bear to leave the comfort that was Josh’s neck and face, now that he trusted his full weight on Josh’s body.

“I love you so much,” he whispered over and over, ignoring the tears that began to slide down his cheeks. 

Their movements picked up, noises increased, and emotions boiled over. Josh’s fingers dug into Tyler’s back, and his legs tightened around his hips. Working a hand down between their stomachs, Josh jerked himself off while Tyler picked up the pace. Pushing each other further, closer and closer until Josh was crying out Tyler’s name and coming all over his stomach. Tyler followed not too long after, pressing as close to Josh as he could, holding him with every fear he ever had of losing him. 

The comedown— the whispered promises and private tears. Tyler lavished Josh’s scars once again before they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms; naked and free from the burdens of the past year. From the worst possible places, they had gone through together and struggled, but in the end, there was only the two of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Tumblr!
> 
> Mars -- teeentyonepilots
> 
> Syd -- pastelxmess


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